Keyword
by hilariberri
Summary: A set of KaiHil one shots. 2: Fairy Tale. Stuck in a twisted fairytale only to spite the odds, Hiromi was determined to keep it that way. Part I. Changed the rating.
1. Rock Star

A/N: This is another set of one-shots. It's entirely different from CCS. _Keyword _is another set that focuses more on the heartbreaking side of KaiHil. It's darker than CCS (but no sexual scenes- I don't need it) and the one-shots portray KaiHil as a twin to one of my all time favorite couple.

Also, I dared my muse to do the same.

Writing in present tense is a bitch. It's AU.

I don't Beyblade, SM Company (just in case, SM stands for me and another boy, okay?) or the Japanese and translated song lyrics but anything else is mine. Coincidences do happen.

**Keyword:**

**Rock**** Star**

* * *

Prologue:

Each one went through a lot simply to be in the entertainment business. Tala was believed to be a prodigy, topping the auditions at the age of twelve with his extensive vocal range. Six years of training, he had undergone— the most anyone could get. Bryan started as a back up dancer for hip hop artists and was discovered by the SM Company at the age of fourteen at singing and dancing auditions. He went through numerous rounds of auditions before officially entering SM. Spencer had connections within the company, and used that to his advantage— but his talent (and stamina) was undeniable. Ian was already a child-celebrity, often separate from the band.

Together, their band started out as a boy band; eventually the boys matured and took up an instrument to play. Their band now branches out as a gothic punk rock and bubblegum-pop and ballad (in other countries). Images constantly altered by demand, it was hard to keep up with their true selves. At least by now, each boy had dyed their hair twelve times.

At the ages of 20-22...of course, hair was never an issue.

* * *

_I am okay now. _

_Let me out now._

_(__Really, I am.)_

_I have not lost anything. _

_You ask: w__hat is my precious thing?_

_(__What? Which?)_

_Oh. My sanity?_

_It's not that__ I can't live without it. _

_(__Why, it is buried seven feet under in my backyard.)_

_Let me go get my shovel._

_But it's also outside!_

_(So the tasks to dig my grave and yours are—)_

_All spoiled...for now. _A smile.

_Do a favor (today, tomorrow, next day, next week, next month, next year, next decade, next century, next millennia, next eternity...forever) for me, heart. _

_(__Set me free!)_

"That everything will be okay," He purses his lips and the corners lift slightly.

_This might be the last, because._

_(__She might be lost, because.)_

* * *

_**v.**_

_(1)__Koko ni iru kara...  
_

And the fiery-haired boy walks on by, giving lingering looks through heavy lidded eyes. He immediately spots the paper on the dual-haired boy's hand— who leaned against the wall. The band situated in Tala's basement, though they are not the typical garage band.

"What is the first rule of being a rock star going on tour?" Tala inquires off-handedly even though he knows the expected answer. A rugged heartthrob, Tala was their band leader; much to his chagrin— throws his set of drumsticks aside and waits for Kai to react. Why he asks, Kai doesn't know. It's not that Kai's hellbent to disobey the rules he takes pride in.

"Break up with your girlfriend." Kai says, over and over again, each fucking time. His ears and head hurt from the repetition; he hates it.

"Have you?" He's upset, like he's seen the answer to this one too. Kai examines the battered wooden drumsticks rolling down on the floor next to his own slumped form.

"Always," he feels empty at this word—but his eyes drill into icy azures nonetheless.

"Leave her for good." A demanding tone but demeaning and sensitive, he uses to Kai but it clearly states _I am right and you are wrong. _Continue talking to me like a child, Kai yells in his mind, because I've been told so many times, I will never stop and listen.

His fatherly concern is a falsity of sweet words— and Kai's drunken every single one.

"It's for your sake, not mine. Not the band's." Tala emphasizes harshness in his words, Kai does not care. "Each time you shut her out, it breaks you. Those lyrics, those songs and your mental state, she deeply affects you. She's probably tired of being hurt."

Kai doesn't need this confinement from her or anyone. But they see an animal in need of dire control— jeopardizing the record deal. No. He is an inspiring artist; a poet. He feels that every song he sings is a consolation prize. He can't depend on those words. He can depend on no one.

He's done on taking drugs, something he has— a disorder, everyone speculates— cannot be healed by any drug. To hell with the band, he wants to say.

"Kai?"

He's still breaking.

"She doesn't need you."

With a jolt, Kai pushes himself up, runs and grabs the redhead by the neck and holds a needle to it. Voices erupt in the room and he ignores the protests of the other band mates. Laugh at the panicked chorus, Kai notes to himself. Then he gazes evenly— breathing calm and the syringe held tight around his fingers— and Tala looks back, undeterred and indifferent. Kai notices it too; Tala's breathing patterns are slower than his. He's used to it, he'd tell Kai days later, when Kai becomes _a little more_ sensible.

"She doesn't need you," Tala repeats, as if to provoke. "If I love her, I'd do the right thing." The older boy pushes the attacker away like swatting a bothersome fly. The fly obliges to let it go and keeps the syringe in his hand. "If you love her, let her go."

"I don't." Kai states dismissively and the others leave. He scoffs.

He _needs_ her.

* * *

_**iv.**_

_(2)Ai wo arigatou  
Itsudemo egao ga suki sa  
Wakare ja nai sayonara  
Koko ni iru kara_

She gingerly takes his head and places it against her stomach, her arms embracing his neck. She looks like a mother hugging her child after being lost in a supermarket. Kai grunts, she smiles and let go.

"Good morning, Kai. Tala told me you were sleeping at his house," she puts on a worried look that dies under his slightly brightened face.

He watches her as she sits down on the chair across from him. He holds the scathing cup in front of him while she takes her chopsticks and dips them into her cup of green tea, an odd habit, but Kai doesn't interfere. He takes a cautious sip of his green tea— mauve eyes on her still in spite of the steam in his vision.

(This might be the last, because. She might be gone, because.)

"How was the down-time with the guys last night? Did you finally get rid of that writer's block?" she asks rather casually like a wife asking her husband over dinner about his day. They are not married and don't live together. She comes early in the morning when he wakes up and leaves his home late at night after he has fallen asleep. To many, their relationship remains non-existent and Hilary does not mind.

She pops the octopus sushi into her mouth like it's nothing, like it doesn't _mean _anything. But it should— he may be overreacting— but it _should, _it should _mean something_ to _Hilary._

"I don't get side-tracked." He sounded miffed.

"Oh, I forgot! The almighty Kai _never _gets distracted! Why, I can pull out my bra in the middle of his sustained note and he will not choke!" she giggles into hysterics. "I...crack myself up."

He settles on a wry smile after debating whether to laugh—quietly because he is Kai Hiwatari—at her obvious rebellion or frown at her childish manner. He finds her attractive either way.

Hilary remarks off-handedly, picking at her food. "I love it when you smile." She raises her head shyly and gives him one of her own. He purses his lips and tells her to eat, hiding a smile. She doesn't need to see it right now. Right now, he needs to watch her.

* * *

**_iii._**

_(3)Zutto kono mama  
Anata no soba ni iru kara  
Kitto shinjita omoi wa  
Koko ni aru kara_

"Have you rehearsed what you're going to say?" curious, Tala asks. "Our year-long tour in U.S. is three days away." He throws another shirt into the large luggage, next to his bass guitar; all polished and ready to leave along with him. The piano stays because his ex-girlfriend wants to remember him and finds it the only item he can't bring. There is a luggage mass limit in the airplane, after all.

Kai is sitting cross-legged on Tala's bed, peeved as usual. "I've only done this to her nine times."

"It's different Kai." He doesn't look at the blue hair on Kai's head but throws a pair of ripped jeans onto the floor. His walk-in closet is nearly emptied. "We're not coming back to Japan for another three years. SM decided to promote the Blitzkrieg further in Korea and China alongside Ming-Ming after the U.S. tour."

Three _years_ without his heart.

"She can't come." Tala tells Kai in case it occurred in the first place.

(I have not lost anything.)

"...What."

(You ask: what is my precious thing?)

Where the fuck is that syringe?

"Kai." Tala speaks again and Kai wants to strangle him. "It's the peak of our big break. When we turn twenty-five, it's over. Let's make the best of it." Without Hilary, Tala intends to say but holds back.

Kai is fine making the best of it, and risk becoming a twenty-five year-old has-been, in Japan, thank you.

"We'll work with the best songwriters. I bet Ming-Ming would collaborate too." Tala tries to sound happy. "We're going home, Kai."

Scratch that, Kai wants to slash every fucking vein Tala has.

"I know it hurts," the redhead declares rather sincere. Kai thinks Tala doesn't have to feel guilty; the Spanish acrobat left him because of his career. The obsessive girl had sick paranoia to the bone; each girl that was within ten meters Tala's reach and breathing his air— the acrobat accused him of cheating her with. Hilary was not the likes of her.

"I like the pain." Kai replies and fishes a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

Tala zips his bag close. "Don't make Hilary addicted to it too."

Kai unfolds the paper and grabs a ballpoint pen from Tala's nightstand. He scribbles a few words, reads it over and folds it back into a tiny square. He gets up, leaves quietly through the threshold and Tala calls after him, "What is that?"

He mutters, but the damn hallway echoes, "Another break-up song."

He feels his heart's crevasse deepen.

The beat goes on.

* * *

_**ii.**_

He watches her crouch slowly to sit on the same chair across from him. She picks up a silver fork with three tines; she counts, and digs it into her omelet. It is an off ritual; she hardly parts with her white ivory chopsticks and green tea. Kai ponders whether to point out that she is using a salad fork—since Kai regards pride in rules, courtesy and the aristocratic like. He envisions her as the future Hiwatari Mistress.

She skewers the piece of egg with the fork and pops it into her mouth like it's nothing. But it should mean something, damn it.

She notes him staring at his food and quietly says, "The veggies I used are from our garden."

She says _our _garden like _our _home where she can't stay for twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and fifty-two weeks a year. He eyes her for a moment, clicks his chopsticks and stabs to pick a piece. Hilary bought these chopsticks after he had learned how to use them.

Then she sets her fork aside and chews in their gradual seconds.

It's ten in the morning and she says, "Kai, when are you going to leave?" lightly because he was always leaving; like he was running away and he was, really. She's got into the habit of him leaving her, after the fourth break-up, for three to five weeks or so and they would be back together as soon as he steps into Japanese soil. It's hardly a hassle to her these days.

"Tala called me a few days back. I was waiting for you to break it to me." She bows her head in embarrassment but Kai knows he should be the one who should be ashamed. "I got impatient."

(Do a favor (_today, tomorrow, next day, next week, next month, next year, next decade, next century, next millennia, next eternity...forever_) for me, heart.)

Honestly, it's not easy to tell Hilary, 'I'm only gone for three years so clean the house, feed the cats and tend the gardens while I'm out, okay?'

Fear graces her entire face, "Kai?"

So Kai lifts his calloused hands and gently cups her face in them perhaps because gentleness was the only thing he could give to her after all this love, this kindness and this smothered but warm care. It hurts; it _hurts so much _that his heart might burst. _I'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry and Idon'tdeservethisIdon'tdeservethis_ are the only thoughts running through his head not _Iloveyou_, not _I'llbebacksoon_, not _I'llmissyou_.

She looks stricken— he gets up— as if he's the one thing keeping her alive like she's drowning, dying even. He's the only one who can pull her out of that opened grave but then he always doesn't because of the band— that _goddamned _band— taught him tough love for himself and others. They say it's her fault that she sticks around when she had memorized the rules herself.

(That everything will be okay.)

Kai opens his mouth to speak but his heart pounds, _Ican'tIcan't _comes first. _Ican'tdothisIcan'tdothis _is what comes next and always _I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry _and _Ineedtoletyougo _and _Idon'tdeserveyouIdon'tdeserveyou_—why can't he say something else? With a rueful look that lasted a second too long, he turns around, his back facing her and musters a quiet, "I'm...—"

_(--okay now. Let me out.) _

He doesn't finish it— he leaves after that, opens and shuts the door. He walks around the neighborhood, eventually towards Tala's house, praying that the crying he heard when the door closed wasn't real.

_(4)Furimuku kokoro aruku senaka maiochiru kisetsu no iro  
Kasaneta inori setsunai uso atsumete koboreta namida__._

-

-

-

_(4)There was a change of heart, and I watched your retreating back as you walked away.  
The colours of the season faded as you did.  
The many times I prayed; that painful lie; the tears that fell, I collected them all._

"Interesting lyrics," Tala sounds impressed with a green towel draped around his wet red tresses. Blue eyes skim the blotted kanji lyrics at an alarming rate. "You've definitely mastered Japanese. Producers can include this in our Japanese album." He smirks and mentally divides the verses between him and the other band mates. Kai should sing the chorus since he wrote the song's lyrics and he is the lead vocalist of their alter-ego boy band.

Tala searches Kai for some sort of reply, but nothing comes. Kai listlessly stares at the lull above Tala's shoulder and Tala's mood instantly dies down— _fucking_ idiot.

"You haven't."

"No."

"_WHY?" _

His heart speaks, "It's for her," and is the only explanation Kai offers. Tala glances at the sheet of paper and grimaces.

Then he takes a deep breath; closing his eyes, "_**Two days**_, Kai. You _**have**_ to let her know. You can't just leave without—"

"I WILL, TALA. JUST SHUT UP FOR ONCE." Kai yells— sitting down— with a perturbed moan. His insides writhe and it's not nausea causing it. Knuckles white, his fingers tangle in blue locks in frustration—he'd always be the one to deny things that most would embrace. Her love is one of them. When he comes home at his lowest, his pride beaten and bruised, she will bring him out of it again. She pulls him out of his most painful yet familiar emotion; his eternal struggle: loneliness.

_Just let me dream of you__, my dear._

She's waiting for him forever. It just hurts that he has to break her heart _over and over again_. From far, far away he hears himself speaking; he can't lie anymore, not to her.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." he says repeatedly like a prayer, rocking himself back and forth. He kneaded his temples in quick, circular motions to clear his thoughts. "I'm sorry..."

A voice barely above a whisper, Tala demands, "Stop it Kai."

Kai can't stand this and she can't either.

"In a matter of time, fans will know about your relationship. If you still love her, let her go."

Kai can't.

"No, I don't." and Tala recognizes the somewhat old-Kai.

But he has to leave.

-

-

* * *

**_i._**

She spots him packing his things at two in the morning with remnants of sleep visible in her eyes. For the first time, Kai catches her asleep on his bed—probably from waiting.

Every morning, he usually wakes up around three, covered in cold sweat and gasping for air. Hilary would be there, a glass of water in one hand and a towel in the other— dabbing the moist on his cheeks away.

"_I can't stop loving you," _she would say, _"I'm pathetic."_ She's crying but there's still a gentle smile on her face.

Simple as that, Kai dominates her without lifting a finger.

"Can I help you pack?" She's now in the doorway, poised on the threshold. Fingers fragile and knuckles white, they grip door frame tight to keep her from collapsing to the floor in heavy sobs, hold him and plead him to stay. She wants to be brave, Kai assumes, for both of them.

He sits in what used to be _their _bedroom. His clothes are separated from hers, folded and placed in his duffel bags. In a sultry tenor, he keeps his pride, "Tch, I'm fine."

Her scarlet eyes are brimming with tears for she is struggling to uphold the expectation rules she's disregarded several times.

Don't expect it to last long. Don't expect it to be remembered. Don't expect mutual feelings, Kai doesn't do that. Once you're gone, you'll be erased forever.

"You're not coming back," she says this as a statement and he nods in agreement, no matter how hurting it is. She knows him too well. He can't lie. "I'm going to miss you."

"Hm."

"It's the peak of your big break, Kai. I won't take that away from you." He sold his blood to maintain finances to pay for his SM training sessions and had many part-time jobs before he was discovered. Hilary can't come into his life and have Kai throw away SM to be with her. She feels that he worked too hard to get where he's at compared to Tala, Bryan, Spencer and Ian put together.

Every syllable she says, as his song plays in his mind, is resolutely otiose.

He doesn't want to leave her, the idiot.

Her gaze hardens; she steels herself to be unfaltering in demeanor or maybe to be just able to stand. She hates it, although this has happened several times only he is not coming back.

Without waiting for a reaction, she walks at a calm pace to him, kneels and wraps her arms around his shoulders into a long embrace.

She breathes finally, "I love you, Kai."

He'll never know what makes him say, "Thank you," so softly in her ear.

Tears gather in her eyes and clear beads roll down. He lowers his lashes. "Don't cry." He says in a lowered voice. He sees how the corners of her lips did not quite lift. Leaning in with his arms to embrace, she backs away and shakes her head.

She leaves, opens and shuts the door. He waits until he hears the front door open and close then the gates click; waits until he can't follow her without getting seen. Then he buries his face in his sheets but no tears come; she'd wiped all of them away.

_(3)I will always be by your side.  
I'm certain the feelings that we once believed in will always remain._

-

-

-

-

"Sayonara, Japan!" The other band mates celebrate, raising their beer bottles to toast for three successful years as TRICK. It's time to come home as Blitzkrieg and revive their punk rock genre.

Jaded, Kai flicks the medium-rare steak with his chopsticks. He's been eerily silent for the entire day; it annoys Tala, who rests across from his seat. "It's rude to stare."

"You worry me more than usual."

"_Fuck_ your concern."

"The flight is tomorrow, I can't have you fucked up in the plane." Tala retorts with thinned tolerance. "If you need to go crazy, by all means, do so now."

Kai responds with silence and a quiet swallow of alcohol warming his rigid veins. He abhors compliancy. Therein lies all the guilt, he lifts his empty beer bottle near the light, and compliancy—this band. He throws the bottle, barely missing Tala's cheek. It shatters against the wall and pieces of rust-colored glass skittered into the couch as if to escape the madness. Here's your craziness, Kai remarks quietly.

Every time he accepted her grace.

"I abhor compliancy, did I ever tell you that?" he asks Tala who offers nothing in return. Kai takes the silence as a no.

And every time he refused to thank her.

"Well I do." He continues and the band mates look on, slipping him panicked yet piteous glances.

And every time he said he didn't love her.

"I hate compliancy, so here." He fishes out a folded piece of paper and smacks it on the table. "It's better to invest on something valuable—meaningful." Turning on his heel, he abruptly leaves the room.

He still _needed_ her.

-

-

-

-

_I can't make it today__, _Kai reads the note.

_I'm __sorry. _

He drops the strawberry-scented memorandum on his bed as his muscles stiffen in the pitch darkness. Fatigue is the last of his worries as his eyelids lowered over dark eyes. He can make out his packed belongings in his room for tomorrow but not a sign of Hilary.

Carefully, he removes his blue gloves, switches the lamp light on and steals a glance at their picture above his lamp—the one where she first linked arms with his when they were still friends. He takes in her radiant smile... the twinkle of her eyes. He shuts his eyes for a while before staring down at his azure sheets. They used to move in constant motion like centrifugal ocean waves—with her legs tangled in them, they used to, whenever she seasoned herself with late night shows with raw cauliflower and blue-cheese dip and a tub of Neapolitan ice cream.

She always waited.

He flaps the quilt and lifts it over his head to climb in. Just as he rests his head on the pillow, he pulls out, from underneath, a bunny-shaped eraser. He takes it into his palm and finds it the only memory she can leave behind and bring with him.

* * *

_**0.**_

_(2)Thank you for your love.  
I've always loved your smile.  
This goodbye is not the end,  
for I'm right here._

-

-

-

-

With a jolt, he gapes at the ceiling, pushes off the bed, ignoring the gripe of his aching muscles and immediately regrets it. It hurts; he's sore and his still in his bed at _their _house. He's breathing in the scent of green tea, lemons, tomatoes and chocolate— and he knows it's her. She also smells of chocolate and airy cauliflowers and salt— her abundant tears. He feels light, breathy and his head is pounding and it hurts, _it hurts_. And she's not there.

Not there. _Not there._ How it reverberates with the sound of heavy raindrops.

"Hilary?" Kai calls softly but it echoes. The house is empty and he is _scared for her_. He doesn't know where she is; he panics like she is air and she leaves him for someone else, _someone else _who is _sane _that will shower her with love. He hates this feeling— loneliness— he hates it so much and she knows it. _Whatcouldhavehappened.Whywouldshedothattome? _Croakily he yells in his mind, walking down corridor to corridor and soon searching around in circles.

"Hilary?" he adds emphasis to her name then hunches down, wincing in pain. Tremors of pain shoot through his body at his every step— it was worse than the time when he lost too much blood or became too drunk— that Hilary had to drag his sorry self home.

Barely whispering, "Hilary... Hilary..." he hears something outside— that sound.

The sound of a gate opening...she is...

And then he opens the door wide, runs to her blindly, surprising her. Embraces her like a man possessed, she is soaked by the rain and his warmth. She drops the grocery bags, tomatoes rolling on front-walk concrete, and holds Kai back a little annoyed, a little baffled but _loved_.

"Hiromi," is the only (rare) thing that comes out of his mouth; he hates it, he loves it... he doesn't know anymore.

He holds her tighter and her breath hitches, anxious.

_I'msorry.I'msorry. _

He wants to tell her that she was just twenty years old, he wants to tell her that love was not waiting for him or knowing all there was about table manners or reciting the rules of being with a celebrity. He wants to tell her that she has a pretty face and that her body is still as soft and her eyes can still brighten again. He wants to tell her that somebody would mirror all the love she has to give, if not today, then someday. He wants to be that somebody but he knows he can't.

"I'm sorry I was late." She lets the rain drown her voice. Her slight frame paralyzed in his arms. "I wanted everything to be special."

It's her tenderness that kills him. The gentleness is what makes him want to shove her against the gate and yell at her, _because he hates her, he hates her... _No, it's not true though.

Nothing happens. There's nothing he can say to her; she's twenty; she's sick of shedding his tears. She once said a song is a medium of emotion that you've never felt before and he hears the new song humming in his ears, moist blurring his sight. His lyrics weigh down in his tongue along with many unspoken truths all once told in ink and lined paper. They used to sit on his night stand— marked unread and forgotten. They all come back now... filling his heart and spilling into his veins— and she feels it too.

"It's ten in the morning," Hilary whispers to him, and he won't ever let go.

_(1)...I'm right here._

* * *

A/N: Numbered phrases corresponding to each other mean the same thing.

_(1)… Koko ni iru kara_

_(1)… I'm right here. _

There you have it, the Keyword's first one-shot. It all depends to muse's next word. The first one-shot is blessed with the song Keyword by a Korean singer because I thought it fits perfectly with everything. Grammar mistakes, if you see them, please ignore them.

Thank you so much for reading and please review!


	2. Fairytale

A/N: It's a very anticipated one-shot. Deds to Nubia: early birthday presents. It's M. Violence. Please pay close attention to everything; setting, flashbacks, etc. It's not in present tense, thank goodness.

Disclaimer: I own the plot only.

Summary: Fairytale: They were stuck in a twisted fairytale only to spite the odds. She was determined to keep it that way.

**Keyword:**

**Fairytale**

* * *

Tilting. She bared her teeth; the emotionless lilt of syllables of her name and the delighted growl of her assailant had caught her off guard.

Run.

Run.

Run.

"Guh!" A sudden impact of force grabbed her by the chocolate hair and slammed her against the counter. With aid from her attacker she stood again— hauled by her mane. She then struggled furiously against the arm on her neck, holding her against the wall with minimal effort.

A strangled cough erupted in the tense silence as her skin blazed in his touch. "S-Stop!"

Fingering the hard object, crystal, without pretense; she swung it over their heads and shattered on his head. Blood and water and violets matted his hair and he fell a few steps back— barely enough for her to escape. Liquid traveled like silk over the sides of her face; her shaking hand jerked to touch it. It was on the floor too; splattered in drops that touched the ends of her toes.

Run.

Run.

Run.

Her legs scrambled up her staircase for dear life and bolted into her bedroom. He was as quick as her shadow as his body reached the threshold. He shook the door open from its hinges that the force knocked her frail form to the floor.

"I'm sorry," she whimpered, breathless. "I can't!" Gathering the hem of her nightgown, she rose to her feet only to be blindly struck by him. She could hear the slap of blood drops hitting the floor, pattering on her dress like finger paint. Do you feel pain?

Vision blurred, she swayed to the distant, resounding 'clink,' followed by a loud crash of objects hitting the ground. She ducked with a screech as thousands of shards flew past her hair and face, embedding them all over her bedroom walls. All things of glass were shattered. Knees buckled, she slid onto the wooden floor, convulsing. Slashes on her legs were like fine lines of a brilliant diamond— bending light, beautiful. Gasping for air, she held her abdomen in wincing pain. He seemed satisfied and blinked solemnly, letting his eyes fade into nothingness once more.

Step.

Perspiration slid off her frigid skin, she swallowed and was unable to look at him in the eye. Unable to find comfort or to be touched, he only observed in stony silence.

Step.

Raising a steady hand, fingers charred and bloodied, she shielded her eyes from the piercing light that danced in the horizon…through her yellow ripped curtains.

A sudden exhale tickled her lips…

* * *

_Burning, bleeding, crying, retching…tiny feeble limbs move above the marbled floors. Asphyxiating and tasting his own blood clogged in his throat, he manages to choke out a single word. _

_His final message of clarity is what his last living relative resents the most._

"_Die." _

* * *

It was a night so dark that stars couldn't find their way. Florescent lights shone down on her sorry form with mocked pity; how her skin glowed magnificently with contours of red. A fallen angel lost in the new moon, Kai watched as she dragged her sleeves downward. Her long brown hair cascaded in tangles and her fingers were busy with a white daisy.

With probing golden eyes, Rei was shocked. "Who attacked you?"

"It's not important." She insisted, mutilating the daisy's white petals.

Kai had ceased the unnerved pacing with a shadowed expression clouding his aristocratic face. Apprehension skewed upon Hilary's as she covertly observed him through a slit in the plastic green curtains. Layers of linen swathed her arms, where underneath her skin had burned to near ivory bone. A few deep scrapes blighted the smooth skin of her neck and a fairly-large yellowing pronounced on her jaw.

Repetition: "Who attacked you?"

Hands weighed down in thin pockets of his lean green uniform, Kai stalked haughtily closer to her. Behind the curtains, he stopped on a mid-step.

"Max. I told you, this was all a freak household accident!" She dismissed hastily with a smile. Fake. Fake. Russet tresses, cascading down to her shoulders, fluttered noiselessly as she shook her head in dissent.

Despite his blank façade kept in place, the bitterness was hard to miss. "Hn."

"You're a terrible liar," Takao murmured wistfully with a sadness tinged in his voice.

"Is there something we don't know about?" Rei added in a whisper.

Kai watched, arms folded and strictly-business façade in place. Then he spoke to the bed at large, "We will find whoever did this."

Lips insufferably pursed in offense, Hiromi glowered at everyone in annoyance. "No." She made an indistinctive noise in her throat. "You won't."

Why was she protecting that monster?

Kai's threatening breaths whistled through his nose.

An uncomfortable silence descended, and the only palpable sound was that of their breathing. Kai quivered in suppressed rage that was coursing through him without an outlet. It made his insides twist to see the girl in front of him nod her head silently, resigning herself to it. Simply, Hiromi had submitted to her assailant without reluctance. She would gladly take those blows and burns repeatedly— out of sick obsession of pain, was it?

No, it couldn't be.

"What do you remember?" Rei inquired once more.

She hated pain.

"That's the problem," pressing her eyelids with her fingertips, Hiromi shuddered out a shaky whimper, "Nothing at all. I'm happy that I lived."

She was lying.

* * *

_His spit of defiance is returned with a fisted clout against his jaw and it burns like the rest of his body. It erupts in severe pain, and sends weak limbs into spasmodic convulsions that forced strangled and rasping cries to tumble from his dry lips. The pain spreads like a channeled fire through rigid veins with a dire desire to possess control._

"_I own you. Never forget, Kai."_

* * *

After that, the phone went unanswered and her door unopened. She disappeared, swallowed up by a silhouette of the creature that refused to free her. Kai had felt the whole world end tenfold; drugs did not have an effect to change it.

This lasted for three months. Takao and only saw her during classes, and afterward she would disappear into the school crowd and took the first bus home. Kyouju noticed the caked on foundation she wore and Max pointed out how she had refused attending practices. Rei had even tried coming to her house, only to have her parents lie that she's asleep. Daichi had spotted her buying flowers once a week at a flower shop near his apartment.

And then one night Hiromi knocked at his door one night, hair dark and tangled with rain, skin pale and cold. Her wrappings were removed and he could see a road map of her imperial blue veins once more. He could see only half her countenance like an eclipse; a water-marked maroon eye, a pale patch of skin drenched from the rain and lips curved downward. She held a withered bouquet of fennel flowers, which had confused Kai.

She stood with her arms at her sides, sighed at him, her eyes reddened and chest heaved. Indigo-black marks traced around the ring of her neck like charcoal smudges; a child's play. Those were never healed.

"I'm sorry I ignored you," she murmured, sulking. Then she threw her arms around him. He was stunned because he'd almost started to believe that her soul was gone. But there she was; weight in his muscles and he could feel her skin through her rain-seeped shirt. He responded to her trembling and carefully placed an arm around her.

"What's happening to you?"

"It doesn't matter." Her mouth was by his ear, breath chilled by the pulsing winds that had seeped into her lungs. Kai was speechless.

A tangible pre-winter, he recalled and she choked. "You are so warm, Kai."

It's okay, Hiromi. (It wasn't.)

"It's been awhile, right? Sorry about leaving you, I…I shouldn't have!"

Calm down. (Why?)

"I missed you."

I'm here. (How close?)

She cried harder, letting the wilted, yellow fennels drop to the ground.

He took her in that night.

* * *

_It feels distinctly familiar; an inkling long forgotten and buried under his flesh and bone. He sees bright red feathers emerge from his marred skin— crackling and hissing, he burns. _

"_You will do everything I wish!" _

_He cries in pain of his slowly atrophying skin. STOP. STOP. STOP. STOP. _

"_You will reborn and free the Phoenix!"_

_He is the single source of light, the vivid flames dancing off his skin in the darkness, and his assailant shakes him like erstwhile candlelight. _

* * *

Patches of peach and red split the night sky apart, and inundated it with breaking dawn. Hiromi perched on a long ledge attached to the windowsill and watched the familiar scene. Ruby eyes stayed open at the startling sunlight and did not waver.

Kai watched her from the corridor as sweat damped her forehead and her long, chocolate fringes were collected to the side with a flowered pin. The nook became her willow bough and she became a beautiful Ophelia facing his eyes. Daylight reflected deep auburn roots of her hair and revealed the bruises that covered the smooth of her neck and the length of her arm.

"Hiromi."

She smoothed her snow-white sleeves over them, startled by his full-blown stare.

Light disappeared into his black gakuran, which meant he wasn't leaving Japan for a long time.

Hiromi shifted awkwardly in her long night dress as its long trail billowed freely under her bosom. She took her shaking fingers and drank the tea to soothe her nerves. The tiny tea cup clicked against the saucer in a disarray, un-lady-like.

Never was she this uneasy around him.

"Ohayou."

The aroma of the tea bothered Kai; unrecognizable but peaceful.

"Ohayou," she supplied in a soft voice. "Nice day, isn't it?" Over the quiet neighborhood, she gazed at it with glassy eyes. He approached her in calm, even steps until he was at her side.

Accusation: "You weren't in bed."

"I can't sleep," with this, she brought the cup to her lips and sipped the liquid. Faster mouthfuls, this time…

Guilt and embarrassment erupted in the pit of his stomach. He felt helpless.

"Don't worry Kai," she allowed herself a giggle. It was high and breathless. Faked and lacked control but it slipped off Kai's scrutiny like droplets of water off a duck.

His instinct had instructed him, rather: "May I lie on your lap?"

She had set the tea-cup down gently and moved her legs from the nook. Tightly, she squeezed her legs together and paused for Kai to lay his head.

Kai laid down, his legs on the nook and his head tucked into her stomach. He felt her breathing hitch at this. Through the cotton fabric, Hiromi was incredibly warm. At that moment, he was dead with eyes closed. He wanted to lie there in peace but he could hear everything. A quiet drum was beating in perfect tandem. At her every breath, her body rose and in perfect rhythm with her heart. Kai could taste her scent of peaches and morning breeze. He could smell flowers.

Hiromi reached a hand to cup his cleaned cheek, her vision kept attentive to a drained tea-cup beside her.

He really wasn't going to leave, which she felt both dreaded and assured. One day, he would discover. She could 'walk in the sun' by then, she hoped.

Cold skin under her fingers' caress, she soothed,

"Sleep for now, my prince."

* * *

To be continued.

* * *

A/N: Gakuran is a black bottoned-up school uniform used by high-school boys. If you get what's going on, you're REALLY smart. If you don't, it's O.K. I don't expect a lot of readers to understand. :D

Part 2 will be up.

Thank you for reading and please review. They're love.


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